


The Government goes Green.

by BarPurple



Series: Mollcroft for the win [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Insecure Mycroft, Insecurity, Jealous Mycroft, Jealousy, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Being a Good Brother, Understanding Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly has noticed a disturbing trend in Mycroft's attitude to her male friends, but it won't rear its head tonight. Will it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> mygetha left this prompt in a comment on Better than Expected.
> 
> How about jealous Mycroft. Let's say he's jealous of the men in Molly's sphere, John, Greg or even Mike Stamford.

Regardless of Sherlock’s open and blunt distain for her observational skills Molly Hooper was not a blind, bumbling fool, (yes that was a direct Sherlock quote), she saw plenty and she was getting a little concerned about a recent trend in her boyfriend’s behaviour.

She’d admit even after two months, it was still a bit daunting dating Mycroft Holmes The elder Holmes brother possessed deduction skills threw Sherlock’s into the shade, a feat that most would consider impossible. Although she couldn't reach the lofty heights they so easily conquered, she was more skilled in reading and understanding emotions than either Holmes brother.  
As she stepped into the shower she let the incidents of the past few weeks run through her mind.

_Two weeks ago._

“Molly, you saint. You’ve really saved my arse this time.”

She laughed at Mike’s exaggeration.

“I just changed shifts with Harris. No biggie.”

Mike Stamford held up his hand and shook away her modest comment.

“Yes biggie because you’ve stopped him whinging at me and saved me having to raid the pharmacy for a gallon of magnesium trisilicate. You, Doctor Hooper are a star.”

He leant over and gave her a peck on the cheek. The sound of a deliberate cough from the doorway made them both turn.

“Good morning Mr Holmes. Well, I best be off and get Harris off my back. Thanks again Molly.”

Smiling and unaware of the hard look he was the focus of, Mike ambled out of the lab. Molly did notice the look on Mycroft’s face, but didn’t give it much thought as it melted away as he walked towards her with a smile and gave her an unexpected hello kiss.

_Nine days ago._

“What’s this?”

Molly tipped the bean sprouts into the wok before she looked over her shoulder to see what Mycroft was asking about. He was stood in front of her fridge tapping an index finger against a handmade card held to the door by a smiley face magnet.

“It’s a thank you card from Franklin. Y’know, the night porter at work? I helped with some basic anatomy.”

The contents of the wok spat and hissed causing her to quickly return her focus to the act of cooking. 

“And what anatomy help was that?”

The strange cold tone in Mycroft’s voice made her turn to face him. Her head tilted slightly to one side as she looked at him.

“His daughter was having problems with her biology homework and he was feeling bad because he didn’t know enough to help her. I talked him through the material and lent him a few books. His daughter got a good mark on the homework and he made the card as a thank you.”

Mycroft nodded, but gave the card one last strange look.

“It was good of him to show his appreciation. The stir fry, Molly!”

Dinner was saved and surprisingly tasty even after its close brush with flaming disaster. Mycroft was relaxed and extra cuddly for the rest of the evening, but Molly noticed Franklin’s card receive a few more hard glances from her boyfriend.

_One week ago._

Molly smiled as Mycroft’s car stopped in front of St Barts. She pulled her hood up against the cold rain and darted out from the doorway. By time she reached the car the driver had jumped out to hold the door open for her.

“Thanks Vincent, oh sorry.”

The new driver acknowledged her with a tight lipped nod, but said nothing as he closed the car door. She gave Mycroft a quick kiss, before she said;

“Have you finally let Vincent have a day off?”

“Marcus is my driver now. Vincent’s behaviour had become unacceptable.”

There it was again that strange hard glint in his eye and the even stranger tone in his voice. Since Molly wasn’t completely sure what either meant she smiled cheerily and changed the subject.

“Good day ruling the Empire?”

Mycroft took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist.

“All the better for seeing you. My Molly.”

_Two days ago._

As Sherlock mop of curls disappeared from view Molly was certain she could hear Greg Lestrade’s teeth grinding together in sheer annoyance. He managed to unclench his jaw enough to ask;

“Are there any reporters about?”

Molly scanned the lobby of the Crown Court and shook her head.

She watched with total understanding as Greg slipped out of sight behind a pillar and thumped his head off the hard surface it offered. He gave Molly a sheepish look as he stepped back into view. She shrugged and pulled a bar of Dairy Milk from her handbag. Greg took it with a grateful groan.

“Bloody hell, I must look as stressed as I feel to get a hand out from your secret chocolate stash.”

As he took his first bite, she gave him a mock stern look.

“Not much of a secret is it.”

Greg swallowed his mouthful of sanity saving chocolate.

“Well I am a detective Doctor Hooper. I notice little clues, like my officers gravitating towards you with puppy dog eyes after a Sherlock encounter.”

Molly chuckled and gave his arm a playful punch. At least she tried to, but it proved difficult as she suddenly had the British Government limpeted to her side.

“Oohh! Hello Mycroft, where did you appear from?”

“I was discreetly keeping an eye on things. I assume Sherlock’s first performance as an expert witness was acceptable Detective Inspector?”

Greg puffed out a breath.

“His testimony was perfect. His delivery almost got him charged with contempt. Things could have gone tits up if they hadn’t called a break. I don’t know what you said to him during that Molly, but you’ve got my vote for miracle worker.”

Molly smiled at Greg’s compliment, but it didn’t stop her noticing Mycroft’s hand briefly tighten on her hip. She got the impression that Greg noticed something was amiss as well, but he didn’t say a word.

“Well my dear Molly, since you saved the day I think I should take you for lunch.”

She’d scarcely finished saying yes before Mycroft whisked her away without letting her say goodbye to Greg. She set her mild annoyance aside and enjoyed her lunch. She and Mycroft were going to have a long conversation about his recent attitude towards her male friends, but she wanted to do it when they had the privacy and the time, neither of which were offered by a quick lunch in a busy restaurant.

Molly stepped out of the shower and tugged the shower cap from her head before wrapping a towel around herself. Tonight was St Barts’ annual black tie fundraiser, held this year at the Natural History Museum. For the first time ever Molly had been looking forward to the event, because this was the first time she’d be attending. Normally she’d spent the night covering someone’s shift in the morgue, but tonight Cinders was going to the ball with her very own Prince Charming. She giggled to herself as she eyed her black and red polka dot 50’s style dress. There was just the slight worry that in the presence of all of her male friends and colleagues Mycroft’s jealously might go critical. She not had a chance to discuss it with him yet. She sighed and shoved the nagging doubt to the back of her mind. This was a formal event, all small talk and canapés, one of Mycroft’s natural habitats, there was no way he’d let a silly and unfounded jealously rule him tonight.

Oh how wrong she was on that score.


	2. Chapter 2

The Natural History Museum was one of Molly’s favourite places in all of London. She’d walked the grand halls and galleries many, many times, though never in polka dot heels on the arm of a suave and sophisticated man. She should have been having a wonderful time, but the tension radiating off Mycroft was making it impossible to relax and enjoy the night.

Although his manners had been impeccable Molly had felt unable to exchange more than a polite hello with man in the room. Strangers, friends, colleagues had all shifted uncomfortably under the hard icy stare radiating from Mycroft’s blue eyes. Everyone had moved away as quickly as politeness would allow. Molly was actually feeling lonely in a party of three hundred people. She was trying to work out how best to broach the subject when Sherlock appeared in front of her from out of the crowd.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding the charming Doctor Hooper, brother mine. Molly, would you care to dance?”

Before she could reply Sherlock hand was on the small of her back and she was being ushered onto the dance floor. 

“Sherlock, thank you for the offer, but I really should get back to Mycroft.”

Her boyfriend’s brother ignored her completely and swept her into a dance hold and onto the dance floor. His taller frame kept Mycroft from Molly’s sight. She didn’t want to cause a scene so with a sigh she fell into the steps of the easy waltz Sherlock was leading her in. For a few turns she actually started to enjoy herself. Why did Sherlock have to open his mouth and spoil everything?

“Molly, in a moment I’m going to do something that will help you with my idiot brother. Allow me to apologize in advance.”

Molly had just enough time to frown in puzzlement before Sherlock quickly turned them and she was dramatically dipped. As if that wasn’t enough of a shock, as Sherlock pulled her upright she felt his hand on her bum in a clear and obvious grope. It hit her in a flash that Sherlock had turned them so his actions would fall directly in Mycroft’s line of sight.

She pushed herself away from him and suddenly Mycroft was in the space between her and Sherlock. A squeak of shock escaped her as Mycroft’s fist connected with Sherlock’s cheekbone. Blushing with shame and embarrassment Molly fled through the frozen crowd towards the exit.

 

“Molly! Please wait.”

Mycroft’s voice stopped her. Molly let her outstretched hand drop away from door, but she didn’t turn to face him.

“I’m so very sorry Molly. I don’t know what the hell Sherlock thought he was doing, but I should not have caused such an unpleasant scene.”

Molly inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly before she turned around.

“Sherlock did what he did on purpose, to provoke you. I suppose at least it was your brother you lost it with,” she took another steadying breath, “Why are you being so jealous, Mycroft?”

“Who wouldn’t be jealous when his date is being groped?”

She took a small step towards him wary of the barely controlled rage in his tone.

“This isn’t just about tonight. Your jealously has been getting worse for weeks now. Mike, Franklin, Greg; you’ve come over all possessive when I’ve spoken to any of them. I’ve hardly been able to say two words to anyone with a Y chromosome tonight. Do you think I’m going to run into the arms of any man who smiles at me?”

Mycroft’s shoulders sagged and his face became a picture of fearful pain.

“I see the way they look at you and I’m consumed by thoughts of them stealing you away from me.”

Molly huffed and put her hands on her hips in frustration.

“I’m not some bloody airheaded trophy princess. I decided on the man I want to be with. And I’m with you.”

Relief flared on Mycroft’s face, but flickered out as Molly continued;

“I can’t cope with this constant worry that you’ll kick off if I talk to my friends. Your jealously is isolating me and it’s horrible.”

She walked towards him and placed a gentle hand on his chest. She swallowed and looked into his eyes.

“I didn’t have many friends as a kid. The ones I’ve made as an adult are dear to me. I want you in my life Mycroft, but not if that means I have to give them up.”

His hand tenderly came to rest over hers where it lay against his heart. He wondered if she could feel the emotion that was tearing at the organ as she spoke of her lonely childhood. The desire to make her happy was stronger than his fear she would leave him.

“I am sorry for acting like a bloody fool. If you’ll grant me the chance I will make it up to you and while I can’t promise to never feel jealous in the future, I swear to you I will do everything in my power to not let it rule me again.”

He sought her answer in her dark brown eyes and hope flickered once more as he found nothing but warmth and understanding. Her heels meant she didn’t have to stand on tiptoe to kiss him, but she rose a little on the balls of her feet out of habit anyway. As her lips brushed his she whispered;

“Okay.”

Relief flooded through his veins like healing waters.

“I think we should go and enjoy this party properly. Would you dance with me?”

Molly’s joyful smile illuminated the dimly lit corridor and Mycroft’s green eyed monster shrivelled away from the lovely light.

Mycroft stood by the wall watching Molly dance with Greg Lestrade. After their return to the party Molly and he had shared a dance, but then he’d made a point of seeking out and beginning conversations with all of Molly’s male friends. He’d claimed he needed a moment to catch his breath when Molly had asked him to dance again. There was a touch of pride in her smile when he’d suggested that Lestrade might join her instead. It was a small gesture of atonement, but it clearly pleased her.

Mycroft felt Sherlock sidle up to his side, but didn’t turn to look at his brother.

“A few well-chosen words in the ears of certain gossips have suggested that my earlier actions were those of a pouting brat trying to play with his big brother’s toys.”

“Hum, a very believable explanation.”

Molly and Greg had left the dance floor and were headed towards them. Just before he stepped forward to meet them his head turned slightly and he softly said;

“Thank you Sherlock, but please do not refer to Molly as a toy ever again.”

In his peripheral vision he saw his brother nod before slipping away into the shadows.

 

_Where are you going? – MH_

_Can a son not decided to pay his parents a spur of the moment visit? – SH_

_Any other son, perhaps. How’s the black eye? - MH_

_A proper shiner. Wonder what Mummy will say about it? – SH_

A few choice descriptive phrases for his brother leapt to mind, but Mycroft gritted his teeth and carefully typed his reply.

_Let me tell Mummy about Molly in my own time. – MH_

Sherlock let him sweat for almost an hour before he responded.

_I won’t say a word about your fair pathologist, if you reinstate Vincent as your driver. Marcus is far too dull. – SH_

_I shall inform Marcus of the change when he returns to London. There are these wonderful contraptions called trains, brother mine. You didn’t have to hijack my car and driver. – MH_

_Trains are almost as dull as Marcus. - SH_


	3. Chapter 3

A few years later John Watson came into Sherlock’s life and while the ex-army doctor was a good influence on Sherlock he had a rather different effect on Mycroft. It wasn’t really a surprise that a ladies man with the nickname of Three Continents caused the slumbering green eyed monster to rouse in Mycroft’s chest.

At 221B’s Christmas get together Molly made a joke about the frankly eye bleeding Christmas Jumper John had donned for the evening. John threw back his head and laughed.

“We make a right pair, Molly,” he said nodding towards her own bright woolly garment, “Think of the electric London would save if they just raided our wardrobes instead of putting up Christmas lights!”

As she was chuckling Molly felt Mycroft shift closer to her side and possessively wrap his arm around her waist. She looked up into his eyes and saw the old familiar hardening lines of jealousy. Well, she knew exactly how to deal with that.

“I don’t think that would be in line with the Government’s Green policy, hey Mycroft?”

He softened so slightly that probably only Molly and the eagle eyes of Sherlock noticed it. It was a strange little code she’d come up with to warn him that his green eyed monster was showing. What appeared to the rest of the world as an innocent offhand remark on environmental concerns, were in truth words of comfort and reassurance to Mycroft. They meant Molly had observed his reaction to a falsely perceived threat; they meant that she wasn’t upset with him for that reaction; they meant that she was, as she had ever been his and he had no need for caveman like antics. 

“London could never hope to look as good in a Christmas Jumper as you do Molly.”

She giggled and kissed his cheek, before taking his empty glass.

“Do you need a refill John?”

“I’m good. Thanks Molly.”

John Watson watched her go and then looked up at Mycroft.

“You are a lucky man Mycroft Holmes.”

“How so?”

“To have the heart of Molly Hooper. Only a blind idiot would think they had a ghost of a chance with her.”

Mycroft studied the open, honest face of John Watson. Over the course of their relationship Molly has told him this very thing many times, but for some unfathomable reason hearing it from John quashed the residual ugly feeling that swirled in his chest. He supposed it was the simple fact of having confirmation of what he knew from an outside source and a source with such deep understand of relationships at that. He smiled at John and gestured towards John’s jumper.

“Would the creator of that festive confection be open to commissions?”

John laughed.

“My Aunt Tilly would be thrilled to knit for the wife of the British Government.”

“Molly and I aren’t married, John. You know that.”

“Even I can observe that that isn’t going to be the case for much longer.”

As John ambled away to defuse a heated debate between Sherlock and Lestrade, Mycroft noted that once again this apparently ordinary man has surprised him. He forced his hand not to stray toward the small velvet box nestled in the pocket of his waistcoat, but he let his joy show on his face as he saw Molly emerge from the kitchen. For an instant he considered popping the question there and then, but decided that Molly, his wonderful Molly, deserved the romance he had planned for later than evening.

“That’s your plotting smile. What are you up to?”

Mycroft placed a gentle kiss on her forehead as he took his glass from her hand.

“I’ll show you later.”


End file.
